The Unshattered Tea Cup
by kittykitty76
Summary: Suppose Hannibal's Little Sister lived?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer- blah blah blah don't own these characters blah blah blah making no money from them blah blah blah keep your arms and hands inside the ride at all time blah blah blah… 

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Young Mischa whimpered. The Nazi soldier and her big brother Hannibal were using her in their game of Tug-Of-War. She whimpered not only from the physical pain, but also from the decision that plagued her. She wanted to go out and play, but she also wanted to stay in the barn with Hannibal. The decision was made for her as a loud crack  echoed when the barn door slammed shut on Hannibal's arm, forcing him to let go. The man holding Mischa's arm was rough. His grip was tight, and his stride was much too fast for her toddling feet to keep up, so she was dragged through the snow. She cried in protest, but he only pulled harder. 

She saw blood on the snow. There was an axe. Suddenly, Two-Year old Mischa's infant brain came to a conclusion: They weren't going to play. Something bad would happen. She'd seen the servants kill chickens with axes, and there was always blood.   

  
The soldier holding Mischa dropped her arm, and Mischa fell ran as fast as her short chubby legs would go. She ran and ran, tripped over a hidden root, and fell. She banged her chin hard on the rim of one of the stool buckets, and three of her baby teeth came out. She spit, blood and tooth falling into the bucket, crying from the pain. She got up, and continued to run. She was in the woods soon, and found a gnarled tree, the branches low and close together. Hannibal had showed her how to climb trees. She heard voices, angry voices, yelling and cursing.  She scrambled up the tree, up to the top where dead leaves still hung in a big cluster, hiding her sufficiently. She gripped the wide branch she was on, and as the voices faded away, her eyelids drooped, and she fell asleep, utterly exausted from fear and fatigue.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer-Hi, this is Leland, I'm not here right now, but I own none of these characters and am making no money off of them, so please leave a review at the end of the chapter! *BEEEEEEEP*

Mischa screamed as strong hands took her down from the tree. She fought, kicking, hitting, biting and screaming at the top of her lungs. She opened her eyes and saw that she was in a man's arms.  
The man was wearing a clean uniform different from the Nazi's. He had jet black hair, and a fuzzy beard that wrapped around his chin. He was tall, about 6'4". He smelled good, like soap.  
He spoke in a foreign tongue, softly, comfortingly. He smiled, stroking her head.   
"Don't hurt me!" She screamed.  
He spoke again, hesitantly, in her language. "You are safe." It was obvious that he too, was not too familiar with the language. "What has happened?"  
"I want my mommy!" Mischa cried.  
He rocked her in his arms, muttering in his own tongue soothing words,  wrapping his jacket around her shivering body.  He rocked her quietly, and walked away, and after a while got her calm to the point where she could answer questions.  "Your name, little one?"  
"Mischa." She said, hiccupping. Her tongue could not yet form the Sh sound, so it sounded like Miha.  
"Miha? Miha what? A whole name you have?" He asked in his halting Russian.  
 "Miha Perdita Lector." She snuffled. 

"Your father is the Count Velick Lecter?" He asked.  
Mischa nodded.  "I want Mommy."  
"Miha, you will come with me. You will be safe, I will not hurt you. You will be warm, and have food."  
"MOMMY!" She insisted. "Where's Mommy?"  
"You're Mommy and Daddy are gone. Will… cannot be here." The man explained. "I'm sorry. I will watch you."  
Mischa cried, kicking and sobbing, as the man carried her away, away from the Nazi Camp, away from her brother. He limped quite noticeably, grimacing with every step.

"What've you got there, Thermopolis?" Sergeant Monke asked the Private who was holding something wrapped in his coat. "Find anything at the Lecter property?"  
"Count and Lady Lecter are dead. Most of the servants are too. Those who aren't deserted." David Thermopolis said. "I found the Count's daughter, though." He pushed the top of his coat away, revealing the sleeping cherubic face of Mischa Lecter, framed by golden brown curls the color of toast. "Near a Nazi camp. They didn't see me."  
 "Oh, dear." Monke looked at the little girl. "Our sources tell us that all relatives are rather distant, 5th or 6th cousins, and live in Italy and France. It could take a while before we can get in touch with them. Possibly a few months. We'll have to send her to an orphanage until then."  
"Sir, if I may, I could take care of her until we can contact her family." Thermopolis said quickly.  
"You?" Monke asked.   
"Yes sir. I just received leave for my leg," He explained, "I was just volunteering for the search as most everyone else was at the village site. I'm supposed to go on the next ride home to the States. Tonight."  
"There's a chance that they won't want to take her. What will you do then?" Monke asked.  
"Gina will be happy to have a child to take care of. We could take much better care of her than an orphanage could."  
Monke thought for a moment, and sighed. "I don't see why not. But if the relatives want her, you'll have to give her up. Don't get too attached, Thermopolis."  
"Yes sir." Thermopolis smiled. "Thank you, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer-Well, well, well… It's disclaimer time again.  So let's put up the disclaimer tree and sing disclaimer carols!

Deck the halls with I don't own them!

FALALALALALALALALA

Tis the season to make no money

FALALALALALALALALA  
I just write these fics when I'm bored,

FALALALALALALALALA

This story does not have a sword,

FALALALALALALALA-AUUUUUUUGHHH!  
  


Yeah, I know you don't get the joke with that last line.  Tough.

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**Years later**  
Miha Lector Thermopolis parked her purple car in the driveway of Mother Gina's and Papa David's house in Charleston, South Carolina. Miha was a handsome woman. She was small, 5'3", with a clear complexion, deep blue eyes, and long wavy brown hair pinned up into a bun , hints of gray at her temples, a few curls flying out of the bun. She was 37, and carried her age well.  
She got out of the car, pausing for a moment, listening to the sound of the not-to-far away battery, the sea gulls and the water before she entered the house she'd grown up in. "Hello?" She called. "Mother Gina, Papa David, I'm here."  
She heard the television, so she went to the den and found both of her adoptive parents staring at the television.  
"...trial is over, and has been declared insane. He will be held at Maximum security at Baltimore State Hospital for the  Criminally Insane for life, or until he is declared sane, when he will stand trial for the murder of 9."  
"What are you watching?" Miha asked her parents. Both jumped.  
"Miha, darling!" Gina got up and hugged the woman. David turned off the television, and gave Miha a kiss on the cheek.  
"What was that on the news?" Miha asked.

"Nothing! Nothing important."  Gina said quickly. "It's been so long since I last saw you! How are you, Love?"  
"Yes, tell us how you're job's going." David added.   
Miha knew they were hiding something. They'd heard something on the news. Murderer of 9 at Baltimore State Hospital for Criminally Insane. She'd find someone else to fill in the rest. "I got promoted, just like I thought I would!" She told them.  
"How wonderful!" Gina said. "Come into the kitchen with me, I cooked your favorite, Asparigus casserole and pork chops."

Gina was a tall woman at 5'11. She had hazel eyes and totally gray hair, cut short. Her face was freckled and weathered from years of sun and wind. She looked nothing like her adoptive daughter.  She was friendly and affectionate, and doted entirely on Miha, known to brag to anyone who would listen on any accomplishment the young lady had undertaken.   
David looked almost exactly as he had 35 years ago, with the execption of a few wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.  
Miha chatted with her adoptive mother for a little while until dinner. After they ate, Miha went to get her bags out of her car and unpack.  
She carried her bags up to her childhood bedroom, the walls the color of eggplant. It was her favorite color. There was a vent that led down to the kitchen, and she heard David and Gina talking.  
"We should have said something." David said.  
"No. No, David. It's probably nothing. Just let it be." Gina said. She sounded upset.  
"Hannibal Lecter. His name was LECTER. And the news said he was from *Russia*."  
"Lecter isn't that odd a name in Russia." Gina argued. "There is no way my baby is related to that... that THING."  
"Gina." David's voice was calm. "I never said he was. I'm just saying, we shouldn't hide it just because there's a small chance."  
"She'll find out on her own about him anyway. It's all over the news." Gina said. "Just don't let her know your suspicions."

Miha gritted her teeth. Her parents acted like they were walking on egg shells with her often, especially when it came to the topic of her real family, anyone who could BE in her real family, or her past before David found her. She wondered what they were so worried about.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer- I don't own these characters and I'm making no money… Ah, you know what? Who the hell cares…

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**Later still...**  
  
Miha scanned the crowd at the Starbucks coffee house, located west of the Ashley. There wasn't a single empty table. She noted a man sitting alone, and she pushed her way through the crowd.  
Hannibal Lecter took the last sip of his tea, and set his cup down. He flicked it with his finger off the table, smiling, and turned to beacon to a waiter. He turned back and found the cup sitting on the table.  He stared at the cup, confused and mesmerized, breathing the word "Mischa?"  
"Yes?" Miha asked.  
"I'm sorry?" Hannibal looked up to the woman standing next to him.   
"You dropped your tea cup." She said. "I caught it before it hit the ground."  
"Oh, thank you." Hannibal said, still a bit stunned.

"Would you mind if I joined you? There aren't any free tables." Miha said.  
"By all means, please." Hannibal beaconed to the chair next to him. He pulled the visor of his panama hat down a bit to cover his maroon eyes.  
"Mr. Cloister." Hannibal said, extending his hand.  
"Miha Lecter-Thermopolis." 

Hannibal dropped the tea cup again out of shock, and she once again dove and caught it. "Your first name again, dear? I'm a bit hard of hearing." He said with a sheepish grin, though his mind was in a flurry.  It couldn't be her… She was dead! It was illogical, it made no sense.  No, it was impossible.  
"Miha." She told him.  
"Ah. Miha." He said with a nod, his thoughts slowing down a bit. "Tell me, dear, is Lecter a middle name or a maiden name?" He asked  as she sat down.  
"I was adopted. It's my birth family's sir name." 

Hannibal raised an eyebrow.  It really was illogical… It couldn't be… But what if?  
She sipped her skinny latte, and she shrugged off her tweed jacket, revealing an eggplant purple blouse.

"That color suits you well." Hannibal commented. "It was my sister's favorite color."  
"It's mine too. Does your sister live near here?" Miha asked, leaning back in her chair.  
"She died. Many years ago, when we were children."  
"Oh, I'm sorry."  
"I am too."

She was dead, Hannibal reminded himself.  This was just a series of coincidences.

They chatted aimlessly for a bit, about the weather, the coffee, and such.   
"I'd better go." Miha got up after about 15 minutes, collecting her purse and her jacket. "Oh," She bent down, putting a napkin-covered hand on his cheek. "You've got some whipped cream..." She laughed as she wiped it off his cheek, and his hat fell away.

They stared at each other in a stunned awe as she saw his eyes.   
"Brother!" She choked, stumbling back two steps.  
"I beg your pardon?" Hannibal asked, rising to help her.  
"You've got his eyes. He... My brother. He was my brother. I have a brother." She rambled, remembering her toddleric memories. 'What was his name?... Hannibal.' She thought. Suddenly her face contorted. 'Hannibal Lecter IS my brother!' Her mind screamed, as she stood, silent, shaking.

"Mrs. Thermopolis, are you all right?" Hannibal asked, concerned.    
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Cloister." She said. "I... Oh, god!"  
"What's wrong?"  
"My brother... I remember my brother! I'd forgotten, but I remember!" She cried. "I have to go! I have to talk to my parents. It was very nice meeting you Mr. Cloister." She said as she turned to leave. Hannibal grabbed her wrist.  
"Let me go." She commanded.   
"You're upset." Hannibal said. "Are you planning on driving?"  
"Yes, I am. Please, release me."  
"I'm afraid I can't. You're distraught, my dear, you could get in a wreck. I can give you a ride home, if you'd like." Hannibal offered.  
"But my car..."  
"I can drive you home in your car and call a cab back. I insist, I would hate for you to be hurt. You can even call someone and tell them to call and check on you after a little while. I won't bite."  
"Well... Ok." Miha said. "My car's out here."  
They both got up and walked outside. Miha spent a moment on the phone, calling her mother, and then she climbed into the passenger side. 

He started the car. "May I ask what's troubling you? Something about your  brother?"  
"I had an older brother. I just remembered." Miha replied, wringing her hands.  
"It's more than that. Remembering a sibling wouldn't be that upsetting."  
"I know who he is."  
"Really?"  
"Yes."  
"Who?"  
Miha took a deep breath.  She knew she shouldn't tell, but the thought was pounding in her brain, about to explode… And this nice gentleman, she felt as if she knew him already.  She could tell him.  "I think... I think my brother is Hannibal Lecter."  
Hannibal's heart raced, his blood pounded in his temples.  It was her! His beloved darling little sister, alive! "Mischa."  
"Turn here." Miha told him.  
They were at a stop sign. Miha turned to look out the window, and she felt a small sting at the back of her neck. She thought it was a bug, and her hand rose to swat it away. She was unconcious before she reached her neck.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer-I don't own the characters, If I was making money off of them, I wouldn't be a poor college student, now, would I?

  
Clarice is still under the influence of Hannibal's drugs in this chapter, if that explains her behavior.

Miha woke up slowly. When she was able to think clearly, her first impression was that she had fallen asleep while reading as she did often. She then realized she wasn't at home. She wasn't in her bed. She opened her eyes, and sat up.   
"You're awake." A female voice said.  
"Where am I?" Miha asked.

"My name is Clarice." Miha turned towards the voice, and found a woman in her 30's with reddish brown hair and eyes vacant from sedatives sitting in a plush arm chair.   
"What happened? Why am I here?" Miha asked. She tried to get out of bed, but she realized she was extremely tired, and lacked the energy to do so. She fell back onto the bed. Clarice did not get up.  
"It's nearly time for breakfast." Clarice said as if she hadn't heard Miha.  
Miha wondered if Clarice was deaf, or insane. It seemed she hadn't heard a word she'd said. What happened next dismissed the former.

A door opened. "Clarice, what are you doing in here?" Hannibal asked. At the sound of his voice, Miha remembered what had happened the day before.  
"Who's she?" Clarice asked, getting up from the arm chair and crossing the room to him.  
"I asked you a question. What are you doing in here?" Hannibal repeated.  
"I came to get my book. I was reading in here yesterday." She held up a novel she'd been holding. "Who is she?" Clarice glanced back to the woman in the bed, who was staring helplessly at the two.  
"You remember those math equations I was showing you the other day?" Hannibal asked.  
"Mmmhmm. Did they work?"   
"It seems so. Now run along, Clarice. I've got work to do."  
Clarice obeyed, giving Hannibal a peck on the cheek before closing the door behind her.  
"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Miha asked. Panic was evident in her voice.  
"Calm down, Mischa." Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed.  
"My mother will be looking for me. I called her." Miha was starting to get hysterical.  
Hannibal opened a drawer next to the bed and withdrew a hypdodermic needle. "Just relax." He told her as he took her arm. She tried to fight, but the drugs from before still had affect on her. Hannibal's eyes gleamed as two points of red as he injected the hypnotic fluid into her vein.   
  



	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer-Hear ye, hear ye! *Trumpets blow* I own none of these characters, and I don't make money off of them!

A note-I don't agree with the truth behind the hypnosis recovered memories things, and most psychological studies prove that they're pure BS, but some people do, and it is convenient to the story, so BAH!

Mischa Lecter sat on a sofa, her older brother's arm wrapped tightly around her. "I wanted to stay with you, but I wanted to play too."  
"They were not taking you out to play." Hannibal had been working with Mischa for a few weeks, and finally he was getting somewhere.  
"I know. It wasn't my decision anyway. He was mean, that soldier. He dragged me through the snow. It was cold." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "There were rocks. They cut me when he dragged me. Then I saw the blood and the axe. Cook would kill chickens with an axe, and there would be blood. Do you remember?"  
"Yes, I remember." Hannibal told her. "You knew that they were going to kill you."  
"I knew something bad would happen." Mischa told him.  
"And what did you do?"  
"He let go of me, so I ran. They didn't start chasing me at first. I don't think they saw me." Mischa rubbed her jaw.   
"And?"  
"I fell. My mouth hurt."  
"Some of your teeth came out when you fell."  
"There was blood too. It hurt. I got up, and I ran some more. I got to the woods and I climbed a tree. You taught me to climb trees, Brother. You did."  
"And Mother would get mad." Hannibal told her.  
"Mother said I was supposed to be a little lady. Ladies didn't climb trees." Mischa recalled. "But I climbed that tree, I climbed really high."  
"You are walking down a long corridor." Hannibal told her. The session was over for now. 

Clarice watched with a subdued interest, as one would watch the clouds floating by. 

"Clarice?" Hannibal asked as he came out of Mischa's room. She was tucked in like a little girl, sleeping soundly in the drugged slumber. Mischa had been with them for nearly a month, and Hannibal gave her seditives or hypnotic drugs many times a day. Clarice no longer needed them to be controlled. 

"Yes?"   
"How do you feel about Mischa?"  
"I'm not jealous." Clarice assured him. "Will she stay?"  
"I believe so." Hannibal told her.  
"I'm glad." She said as she tucked her arm around his.  
"That's my girl." 

Fin


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